


1933.

by NaranteMor



Category: Mobtale, UT Mob, Undertale, Undertale AU - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Profanity, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaranteMor/pseuds/NaranteMor
Summary: The year is 1933, in the middle of the American Mafia period.People ain’t allowed to stroll down the old neighbourhood without him gettin’ news of it. Gunshots echo in the night and phony bills are almost normal.Name’s Yor, Horace Alexander Yor Jr., and I’m a human in a monster world.





	1933.

The year is 1933, in the middle of the American Mafia period.

People ain’t allowed to stroll down the old neighborhood without him gettin’ news of it. Gunshots echo in the night and phony bills are almost normal.

Name’s Yor, Horace Alexander Yor Jr., and I’m a human in a monster world. Owe quite a few benjamins to Asgore, but despite his goons comin’ after me every other day I get along fine. I promised myself I’d figure out some way to get outta here, but I know my record wouldn’t allow me to. “You’s on his hit list!” A skeleton calls to me, one of my friends; I know he ain’t mean nothing. Today is July 17th and I’m walkin’ down the road in the evening, I see a shady lookin’ skelebone in the alley next to my hideout, a dusty old warehouse _ full _ o’ guns. He strides out of the darkness and stares into me, “you got money to Asgore, ya know. I’m here to collect, either cash or your soul.” I sigh, the funny thing about me is my grandaddy married a monster with powerful magic, so I use magic just as well as any normal monster. I fish in my pockets for a moment and he taps his wristwatch, I pull out a penny and reply, “this should be worth Asgore, if he’s the same as ever.” I flip the penny and it lands at his feet, I realize that he’s been grinning the entire time, what a fool. He says to me, “next week, same time?” We both grin and make a silent agreement: Damn Asgore. I nod and approach him, we shake hands. Back at the warehouse I put my suitcase on one of the tables, it’s loaded fat with money from a rival gang. Placing my fedora and coat on a rack, I sigh and stare at a framed picture: Pops. Ya see, my pops was killed by the law when he tried to slip out of prison. The only reason he got shot was because one of his “friends” singed. I shot him dead, by the way. Sometimes I can almost feel Pops’ firm hand gripping mine as he teached me to shoot, I wish… I wish I could go back to when things were simple. Perhaps I coulda saved him... But I quickly shake myself out of the nostalgic trance.

My problem with the monsters ain’t a problem, see. It’s just the feelin’ I get when they turn to dust, as if it atones for what I done and what they done. I start to lose myself to fatigue, and when I wake up there’s a gun in my face, with a… the hell is that? A fish lady with a feds uniform. “Horace Alexander Yor Jr, one of this dump’s biggest felons. Wanted for: money laundering, murder, busting out of prison, associating with the Mafia, evading arrest. You’re under arrest, mister.” I reach for my revolver and in the blink of an eye my gun is ready to put lead in her and I’m at the exit. Before she can react I deactivate all doors, including the steel ones, and I’m runnin’ from the law once again. I curse myself for sparing her, I know it’ll cause me problems. I know I gotta find that skelebone, with magic you can see how powerful someone is unless they conceal their magic. He’s on my level. The reason I’m more powerful than some actual monsters is because I’ve worked hard to get where I am, a raised monster that got protected by their parents all their life wouldn’t know what a near-death situation is. Let’s just say _ I _ do.

Unfortunately a rumbling sound marks my immediate priority, I was gonna catch a bite at the warehouse but the coppers intervened. To the pub I go! Stealing a horse left near me, I eventually arrive at Grillby’s. It’s close to midnight so its guaranteed to be packed, sure enough as soon as I enter the building I’m assaulted by a wave of sound. Sometimes they have... _ special _ events, unfortunately tonight was one of those nights. I’m reminded why it ain’t for minors. Grillbz is pouring a beer as a scantily clad woman sings a melody, in the back I spy mobbers trading molotov cocktails, and I sense the skeleton I encountered earlier drinking and talking to Grillby. Apparently he caught wind of me too, as well as the entire room; I’m a sorta half-assed legend in these parts. Sinking into the stool next to the shady skelebone I pass the bartender a five simply saying, “the usual.” The skeleton turns to say something as Grillby slides me a Gin Rickey, which I promptly devour and slide it back for a refill. After about thirteen drinks (tonight was half off everything at midnight), I turn to the skelly and await what he has to say. “So I heard of this job,” he begins as I eagerly rub my hands together in anticipation, “that Undyne got trapped in a warehouse. Asgore’s offerin’... five. Hundred. For her dead.”

He wasn’t exactly being quiet about the whole thing so the pub got silent. I sigh and stand up, reaching into my pocket and grabbing Pop’s revolver, checking for anyone suspicious. I quickly notice a copper in the far back, and suddenly with a bang there’s a lead round in his head and my arm containing the gun is outstretched in his direction. 

“Dead.” I mutter, “any of you’s willing to go after that bounty. Dead.” It seems the entire room nods so I can’t pinpoint any new victims for my gun. Still standing I calmly walk out the door, back to the warehouse. I open the doors and the copper is sitting cross-legged on the cold, hard floor. I shoot her straight in the head and the deed’s done. She collapses onto the floor in a bloody mess and I pick her up and haul her to Asgore’s base. I misjudge the time and see a newsboy riding his bicycle, I can’t bring myself to kill the boy. I stop and let the corpse fall to the ground and pull out my revolver, the kid rides faster but it’s too late, I shoot a hole in his wheel and he tumbles on the concrete with a shout. I muffle and hide him in a nearby bush to pickup on the way back.

I arrive at the entrance to Asgore’s hideout, and pull my revolver out and drop the corpse. I love making entrances, I knock on the door and the moment I see the person’s face they’re dead. Stridin’ in like I own the place, I see Asgore lounging on his seat, the hideout is very, very large, the walls coated with weapons. A guard runs at me, “dead” I simply say, and he’s simply that. Except with a bullet hole in his head. 

Asgore chuckles, I throw the body at his feet. “Give me the money.” I order him while pointing the gun for his head, he sends one of his monsters to give me a suitcase full of bills. I open it up with the gun still pointed and there they are, five hundred dollars, they aren’t phony so… Asgore must have been preeety desperate for the copper to get taken out. “What did this one do? Steal one of your guns? Aw, poor Asgore getting beat up by the police.” I sneer and walk out of the warehouse.

I enter my warehouse while holding the flailing boy. I open the broom closet door and toss him in,

  



End file.
